Watching Over With You
by goldengreaser
Summary: Even in death nothing compares to a father's love. Tear Jerker.


It was a cloudy day on the earth below but the man didn't seem to notice. He grinned and swung the little boy with him around. The little boy laughed and the man grabbed him and fell to the ground. He tickled the boy and even more laughter filled the air.

"Daddy?"

The man looked at him and brought him to his lap. "Yeha kiddo?"

I think this might be the best day ever."

The man smiled brightly and hugged his son smelling his hair. "I think you might be right."

I remember doing that with my boys. It must have been about thirty years or more at least. They would laugh and wiggle out from under me, complaining about being to old for that kind of thing.

The man I was watching didn't seem to have that problem. His son was still small enough to enjoy the jester. He pulled away soon and tried to drag his father up. "Daddy, lets go to the swings."

"Okay, Okay." He chased the kid over to the swing set. There had been a swing set there when my boys were young too but it had been replaced multiple times over the years. This one was less than a year old.

"Higher Daddy, Higher." I smiled. My youngest boy, he loved the sings when he was little. He would tell me he felt like he was a bird flying. My little colt always had a big imagination.

"Okay buddy, hold on tight." He leaned back far back with the swing and then let go. The little boy grinned even wider.

"WEEEEEE!" he shouted. I smiled, a cute kid, that one.

"Ready to go higher?"

'"Yeha!" He sounded so gleeful. I sighed. I remember my little son. He was always so happy when I'd push him.

A few minutes later he stopped the swing. "Okay little buddy. How about some ice cream?"

"Choc.. Chocolate?"

"Would I order anything else?"

The little boy shook his head. "Never."

I curled up on the cloud and watched the scene change. The boy was on his father's shoulders, holding on tight. My oldest used to ride around on top of my shoulders when he was the boy's age. He always said he wanted to be just like me, big and tall.

I smiled in spite of myself. The boy covered his dad's eyes. "I can't see kiddo."

"okay." He let go and held onto his neck again.

They got to the ice cream shot. I used to take my boys to that old Tasty Freeze. The man had good taste. "all right we're here." He sat the boy down and grabbed his hand. "Last stop Sunday Junction."

I laughed as I watched the boy eat his ice cream. He had it all over him. My middle boy now he knew how to do that. I always used to joke that he got more on him then in him. The man was laughing too. 'I think your supposed to eat it kiddo, not wear it."

The boy grinned cheekily. "Sorry daddy."

"It's okay lets go get you cleaned up."

"No bath please." What was it with boys and their baths?

"You got it."

"Good."

They walked out of the shop once he was clean. The boy was back on the man's shoulders as they walked out.

After a few minutes they walked onto the street where they were staying. It had changed since I had last lived there myself but it still felt the same. They walked into the old house I had not stepped foot in for twenty years or so.

"Hey Dar, we're back."

A man walked out from the kitchen. I saw so much of myself in him. The little boy ran for him. "Uncle Darry." He squealed. Darry picked him up and swung him around.

"Did you have fun with your dad little man?"

"A lot, lots and lots."

"Well that's good."

"Hey Darry?"

"Yeha buddy?"

"Can you watch your nephew for me while I go for a run?"

"Just be careful. It's getting dark."

The man smiled at his older brother. "Darry I'm not a little kid anymore."

"Daddy's a big boy." A laughed at the child, my grandson.

" You tell him kiddo."

The man I had been watching, my boy though he had not been one in years now, ran out the door, keeping a brisk pace.

He ran all the way to the graveyard. Never liked that name, sounds so morbid and all. He ran to the graveyard and I knew right where he was going. I was waiting for him.

I looked down at the spot I knew he would flock to.

**Darrel Shayne Curtis SR October**

**25 1926- January 2****nd**** 1966 **

**Loving Husband and Father**

It didn't take long for him to get there. My youngest son has always been fast on his feet. He sat down at my grave. "Hey dad. Happy Father's day." He wiped off some stray dirt and leaves. "It was a good one for me. Pepsi, he had a blast. It's nice being down here for one. "

He was silent for a moment. "I miss you."

I often feel sorry for my youngest son. There was so much I never got to do with him, so much I never taught him. My biggest regret in death is that I did not spend enough time with him in life.

"You should have seen Pepsi today. He was so happy. I had never seen him with so much energy." He gave a sad sort of laugh.

"Sorry I didn't come last year. I'm not so good at this kind of thing." He was crying. I closed my eyes.

Death is not something to be sorry about. I am truly happy where I am. Heaven is a wonderful place. No sadness, no pain, no money. I have my Maggie and I have one of my boys with me and a couple extra besides.

The only thing I regret is the two I left behind. I left Darry to pick up the pieces and Pony. He was only thirteen. Darry had everything to do with the man he became and I had virtually nothing. All I can do is watch and be proud. And I am so proud, so very proud.

I walked over to my son, my grown son. "I went to Florida dad. Do you know Soda has a son? I saw him. He's another kid who never got to know his father. And it just brought up so much. I am so happy now but it still hurts ya know. I spend time with Pepsi and I wonder what if I ever leave him. I try to make everything good for him, you know. I want him to have good memories."

I wanted to touch him so bad. I put a hand on his shoulder and held him. He was rocking not even knowing I was there. "I love you kiddo. I never meant to leave you boys."

He was crying still. "Love you dad. I, I got to go." He took off running. I floated upward back on the cloud.

A hand reached out for my shoulder. "Hey dad, Happy Father's day." I turned around.

My middle son was smiling at me forever young, forever a boy. As he joked once Peter Pan in hair grease.

"You see your boy?" He nodded. 'He's a good kid. Hey dad?"

"Yeha Pepsi?"

"No regrets." I hugged him smiling. "No regrets son, no regrets."


End file.
